


Angles

by spacetrash (orphan_account)



Category: Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Age Difference, Emotional Sex, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, One Shot, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Resolved Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Space Pirates, Teasing, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 01:04:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/spacetrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to just be a joke, some harmless fun to break up the tedium. But, plans can go astray... Sometimes for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [colonel_bastard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colonel_bastard/gifts).



> The title is a reference to the concept in wrestling: An angle is the backstory behind a fight.
> 
> A/N: I've never written sex before oh god I hope you like this.  
> Also: You can't tell me that Jim Hawkins would not have a running stream of self-criticism in his head at all times; it should be considered inevitable that he would second-guess literally everything he ever thinks. Poor bab.

_What they don’t tell you about space travel,_ Jim thought as he sat below deck coiling the last of several impressive lines of rope, _is how much time there is to waste._

Sometimes, he wondered if he weren’t given things to do just so everybody else had someone to laugh at.

_There’s the cabin boy, hosing the heads. Mind your face, son! It’s nasty business in there, for sure!_

_Jim, when you’re finished with the dishes, could you come to my cabin and help me alphabetize these documents by solar system of origin, in reverse chronological order? There’s a lad!_

_You need elbow grease, you say? The cabin boy will fetch it for you! Gullible_ and _reliable, that’s our boy!_

Jim scowled at the thought; the pet names could have been nice, if they’d been genuine. Birdbrain Mary had called him ‘wee lamb,’ just the other day, before exploding in such a raucous burst of laughter she nearly fell overboard. Silver had snatched her back into the ship in the nick of time, and without a pause set Jim to sanding the tables in the mess.

He gave a heavy sigh as he placed the last coil aside, letting his legs splay out in front of him and lacing his fingers behind his head. The day was only a few hours old, and already he was longing for something to eat, a bath, and a nap. He let his eyes slip closed; he’d get back to his chores in a minute, but the breeze coming down the steps into the galley was so nice…

“Blast it, Jim! What are these doing all over the place?!”

The boy’s eyes flew open with a start, to see Silver stumbling over a heavy coil nearly the same size as Jim. He narrowly avoided losing his balance, gripping at the corner of a table to steady himself. The rope was kicked out halfway across the galley; half as thick around as Jim’s waist and nearly as heavy as he. That one had taken him nearly three hours, and he jolted forward with a groan, his eyes and mouth wide.

“Hey! You asked me to coil them, you didn’t say there was a certain place I should put them! Besides, it weighs as much as me! How was I supposed to move it again?”

Jim swallowed thickly as the cyborg fixed him with a stare that was equal parts annoyance and long-suffering patience. As if it were nothing, Silver deftly laced the rope over his massive fingers and set the coil down in the corner. He crouched down over the boy, jabbing a finger once against his chest for emphasis.

“What sense does it make, to have ‘em strewn about? If it were so much trouble, ye could have asked for help.” He paused, his cybernetic eye grazing a tight once-over of Jim’s relaxed posture. “And just what are ye doin’, lazing about as ye are? Up with ye now, there’s plenty more to be keepin’ busy with.”

Silver straightened up, towering over him, and held out his mechanical hand.

Jim was so tired of this; being expected to be at the beck and call of others. This trip was running everyone ragged, and Jim was the scapegoat. Everyone needed to take a damn break from being so on edge all the time, relax a little bit… The stress of the voyage would kill all of them, Jim first of all. Silver needed to sit down for a minute, close his eyes, and appreciate the breeze on his face, too. Just to relax for a second.

Unless…

He mentally scolded himself. _That’s a stupid idea, and after that ordeal with Scroop you should have learned your lesson. Trying to joke around with these people is a bad plan for everyone._

But Silver wasn’t like the others. He knew how to take a joke, and how to make them. And if Jim really fucked up, the man was forgiving enough to be over it in a day or two…

It was worth a shot.

So Jim crossed his arms and legs and pouted up at him.

The cyborg’s gaze went icy, and his hand fell to his side. Jim felt as if his skin wanted to crawl off his spine.

_Uh-oh. Steady._

The cyborg cleared his throat with a pointed _ahem_. “Come on, then.”

With lead behind his tongue, he levelled his gaze with Silver’s and held that stare with his own. He could feel the corner of his mouth turning up of its own accord, though due to nerves or excitement, he wasn’t sure.

“You should take a break, old man.”

Silver sputtered, taking a step back. His eye cast a ruddy glow on the boy’s features, his mouth pulled down in a grimace.

“Say that again, Jimbo?”

_Gotcha._

Jim grinned, leaning his head back and staring up at the man through half-lidded eyes. “Oh, you know,” he muttered with a casual drawl, “you just get so busy with keeping on top of everything… it must be so exhausting. You should be taking regular rest, at your age.”

Faster than he could blink, Silver’s face was inches from his own, finger wagging sternly under Jim’s nose.

“I’ll not be listenin’ to that sort of impertinence from you, ye hear me?”

Jim chuckled softly, and with a smirk he grabbed onto Silver’s hand and jumped up, taking a wide step back.

The man took a step forward to balance himself… right onto Jim’s last coil of rope.

He went down in a wide arc and ended up flat on his back, pulling Jim down with him. The boy landed slantwise and twisted, his left hip flush to the other man’s, and his arms thrown out over his chest. Silver’s hands came up, instinctively cradling him at his hips and shoulders. His face was flushed, whether with mirth or embarrassment the cabin boy couldn’t tell, and Jim realized that his own cheeks were also burning.

_Good job, genius. This has very suddenly become Not a Joke._

_Maybe he’ll be cool with it. Just…_

Silver briefly made eye contact with him before looking away, color rising even higher.

It was then Jim realized he was more than a little light-headed… and half hard.

_Wait._

_This is a thing?_

_Is this a thing?_

_Since when is this a thing?_

Jim tried to think critically about logical answers: he couldn’t remember the last time he was this physically close to another person, he was starved for attention, he was a hormonal teenager, he was exhausted and overworked and lonely, he hadn’t had the privacy to have a proper wank in weeks… but that part of his brain was quickly abandoning him.

But this wasn’t right! Jim liked… well, he considered _girls,_ but that wasn’t quite true; girls were nice to talk to, to cuddle with, they smelled good and complimented him on his surfing, but the thought of one had never left him aching with lust. Then, he’d never much entertained those kinds of thoughts about men, either… sex wasn’t high up on his list of priorities, he supposed. The mass-appeal glamour of tight shining bodies and flawless complexions didn’t do it for him.

No. But the texture of rough fabric under his hands, the smell of tobacco, gear oil, rum, and sweat, the warmth radiating up into him from that solid bulk, and the feverish line of fear and embarrassment and definite, undeniable arousal sparking through his veins… that was doing it for him. Apparently.

_Oh._

Through his splayed palm, Jim could feel quickening heartbeats underneath firm muscle. His pulse jumped in his throat, and a new rush of heat surged to his face.

_Oh. Oh._

Silver exhaled heavily, and when he managed to find his voice, his words cracked.

“A’right, ye got me. Do y’plan on gettin’ up any time soon, then?”

He clapped the hands that had been hovering over hip and shoulder down, heavy and quick, as if to diffuse the situation.

It only served to press Jim closer, forcing his prick to brush against Silver’s side. The tiniest of whimpers escaped past the boy’s gritted teeth, and he felt Silver freeze underneath him.

_Oh, fuck._

Willing his head to stop swimming, Jim pushed himself up with slightly shaking arms, perching on Silver’s hipbone. He peered down into the wide-eyed face below him.

He thought to say _I’m sorry._ Shove himself up, dust himself off. Apologize, and really mean it. They’d both stand for a minute, hands curled at the backs of their necks, looking everywhere but at each other, and they’d trudge their separate ways to come together again in a few hours to start prepping for supper.

It would be shameful, but they could escape with their pride more or less intact. The awkwardness would fade after a while and in time they could both laugh it off as a funny memory. Ha ha.

He thought to say _Sure thing,_ leap up and rush off without a word, leaving Silver to gather himself up and piece it together in whatever way he saw fit, all on his own. But that wouldn’t be fair… as much as he resented the man (sometimes… maybe less, lately), he wondered if deep down he didn’t maybe actually care about his cabin boy, just a little. He couldn’t play a joke gone sour and then not make up for it.

Jim shifted slightly, redistributing his weight—

—only to feel thick, heavy heat press into his thigh. Silver’s fingers twitched fractionally tighter where they rested curled into fists at either side of the boy’s hips.

He swallowed a gasp, as he realized the flush on the big man’s face wasn’t 100% embarrassment at all.

A thousand words buzzed in a cloud through his head, fading out into static as his pulse hammered hot and insistent in the base of his throat. The smell of the man underneath him was making him giddy, that brush of rough texture against the skin of his palms raising goosebumps down his arms and back.

_What the hell even is this?_

He felt debauched; like his sole purpose was to be here, in this moment, to feel whatever the hell it was he was feeling and revel in it.

_He’s into this. Silver. Silver’s into this._

_Silver’s… into_ me.

_And I am definitely into Silver._

With that acknowledgment, Jim’s head swam with a new wave of lust.

The words came, finally, natural and clear, and if his voice wavered Jim was certain that there was too much equivalent white noise in the cyborg’s head for him to notice.

“Wrestle me for it. If you win, I’ll get off.”

He could feel the flush creeping down his neck, onto his chest, down into his arms. God, he hoped that double entendre was as obvious as he thought it was.

A broad hand spread wide and warm over his back, and Jim thought he would shake apart with the heat of it, before his head cracked against the floorboards and he was surrounded by solid weight, sturdy muscle and a cybernetic thigh settled between his knees.

Jim never thought he’d relish being made to feel so _small._ The thought of being utterly overcome by someone like Silver – no, scratch that; by Silver, only by Silver – made him shiver.

Silver’s natural hand came up beside his head, his lip brushing just over Jim’s ear as he muttered in a shaking whisper, “Yer not so hard to pin, Jimbo. Didn’t think this one much through, did ye?”

Jim squeezed his eyes shut, choking back a groan and reminding himself to swallow.

The urge to cling, to pull that massive body tight to him, to feel the air rushing out of his lungs as Silver moved over him, was almost overwhelming. He practically cried out as he wrapped his arm around the slope of shoulder and neck, leveraged up with his heels and his elbows to push the cyborg onto his side, tilting his full weight against the man to attempt to push him onto his back again.

Jim’s muscles were quaking with the effort of flipping him, gripping the lapels of his coat with white knuckles, unbidden sobs echoing in the hollow of his chest.

_Why the hell do I feel like I’m about to cry?_

A broad thumb traced over his jaw, and Jim felt tears spill hot over his nose as he stared into a face full of tenderness.

Silver drew back, his eyes heavy and blown but unmistakably concerned. “Jim, lad? Are ye feelin’ a’right?”

_Nerves. I’m so nervous I’m crying. Only me, I swear._

“I – we – say the word, and this stops.” Silver’s voice was tight and dry as he fumbled for syllables, torn between wiping the wet from the cabin boy’s face and gripping him tight to his chest.

“No!”

With a shove, Jim managed to get Silver’s foot out from under him and ended up across his chest again. This time he straddled the man, relishing the lewdly wide spread of his legs across that ample middle. The urge to cry subsided as quickly as it came, and he scrubbed angrily at his face with a sleeve.

_Get it together, Hawkins!_

“You let me do that,” he panted, voice quaking, hands trembling where they ran figure eights from shoulder to pectoral to sternum to nipples and back. He needed to _touch,_ first with his hands and then with his mouth and then with his bare skin and then all at once…

Silver’s eyes fell closed and he growled, deep and dark and it rumbled through his chest. Jim bit down hard on his own bicep to stifle a groan, tasting blood when fingers wrapped wide and sure around his hips.

“I may have done, ye’d be right.”

The gentle, firm stroking of a finger against his lower back was unexpected, and the boy sat up straight with a start.

“Stars, lad, you’re wound tighter’n a Calypsan stopwatch.”

 Jim gave a wheezy laugh. “Weeks with no relief can do that to you, you know.”

“No, this is more’n just a few weeks’ stress, that’s fer sure. Don’t think you’re foolin’ me, now, Jim. I’m no stranger to desperation.”

The cyborg’s tone had turned introspective. Silver’s gaze was fixed somewhere distant, as if he were ashamed to acknowledge what was happening.

Jim’s heart was in his throat. “Hey. I … I want this. Whatever it is, I don’t know. But I want it.”  

“This is … Well. I’m leavin’ it up to you, Jimbo. Call the shots.”

Silver’s hands on his hips held even tighter, and the voice wavering hot and breathless in his ear set the hairs on the back of Jim’s neck on end.

“But I won’t stop ‘til ye say so.”

Silver leveraged himself up, so that Jim slipped down off the curve of his belly and was pulled firmly into his lap, and God if he wasn’t aching to reach back and grip the heat pressing into his backside. He prayed for bruises come morning. Not that he would have to pray very hard; the cyborg was digging his fingers in as if Jim were his lifeline to the fact that this was real.

“I want more of you, all of you,” Jim found himself chanting under his breath as he pressed hot, urgent kisses to jaw, throat, and shoulders. Silver’s hand inched, heavy, from his hip up his side to clutch him around the waist.

“I don’t want to hurt ye, lad,” the man moaned into his neck with a shudder, as Jim succumbed to the urge to grind against his paunch so hard he saw stars.

“I don’t care if you hurt me. I want you to—”

A cybernetic fingertip traced slow and slick up the underside of his cock, and Jim abandoned his sentence to wrap his arms around Silver’s neck and wail into his shoulder.

“—to do what you want.”

One hand cradled Jim’s head, and an arm wrapped tight and protective around his waist to put him on the floor again. Before he could move, Silver had kicked his legs apart and lain between them, weight settled squarely on Jim’s thighs and hips. He propped himself on his elbows and gave the cabin boy a dark grin that made his blood sing.

“Ye can work for it this time, then.”

Silver’s cock was forced up alongside Jim’s, throbbing and huge even between three layers of cloth. Jim rolled his hips as much as he could, the rough tug of the fabric and the heavy press of Silver all around him bringing tiny groans to his lips.

“Oh, you’re cruel,” Jim gasped, trying to slip his hand down to his groin, just to relieve some of the pressure. Silver tutted, wrapping his massive fist around the boy’s hand and pinning it by his head.

“Cruel, am I? In that case…”

There was a whirr of machinery as Silver shifted his weight, and Jim felt those mechanical fingers rucking up his shirt, trailing a trembling path down his belly to the waist of his trousers. The cinch on his belt clattered to the floor, and the boy’s cock twitched free, swollen and dripping.

Silver had both of Jim’s hands captive now, easily gripping them above his head with just the thumb and forefinger of his natural hand. He ignored the erection smearing against his shirt and pushed Jim’s shirt the rest of the way up, tucking it under his armpits. He brought the cabin boy’s legs together under him and straddled his knees, kneeling over him so that their only points of contact were Jim’s prick pushing up against his gut and his fingers wrapped around the boy’s wrists.

Jim screwed his eyes shut, anticipating a tweaked nipple, the brush of a blade, a sharp stinging slap to the skin of his belly…

A reverent kiss pressed just under the curve of his pectoral muscle, right over the shuddering rhythm of his heart, was the last thing he expected.

He squinted one eye open to see Silver staring down at him, all of him, with such shining eyes, it was as if he were staring into a sun.

“Silver?”

His hands were released, and the man brought his thumb down to press against Jim’s lips.

“Yer a wonder, you are. I’d been waitin’ to say it for a while, now.”

Jim kissed the finger, and cupped the cyborg’s face in his hands.

“Silver… please.”

The big man’s eyes slipped closed, and he nodded.

Jim couldn’t tell where his lips ended and Silver’s began. He bit and panted and moaned, relishing the warm taste of purps and pipe smoke on the other’s tongue. Silver’s hands curled into his hair, his hips pressing heavy and insistent against Jim’s throbbing prick. Fingers danced over Jim’s stomach, his hips, his chest, his back, and before long, Silver’s mouth was following the routes he’d traced.

The boy ran a sweaty palm down the cyborg’s chest, over his belly, and reached into his trousers to curl his hand around Silver’s cock, hot and velvety and trembling. Jim wrapped his legs around the other man’s hips and rocked up, stroking in time as his own erection bumped against the man’s heft.

Silver cupped a hand over Jim’s mouth as he felt the boy shake apart underneath him, not minding a bit as teeth clenched down over his finger and a ragged groan scratched its way out of Jim’s throat.

“You are a wonder.” He mouthed.

As the cabin boy lay panting, he kissed a final constellation across his chest and sat up.

Jim struggled to prop himself up, hair matted to his face with sweat and his eyes fighting to stay open.

“Wha… what about you?”

Silver smiled, and shook his head. “T’weren’t about me, Jimbo.”

Jim gave him a conflicted look, but held out a hand, and the cyborg hoisted him up. His legs were shaky, but he’d make it.

“I’ve never… That was… Wow.” Jim chuckled, still breathless.

Silver wrapped the strewn rope over his shoulder and smiled, making his way back to the steps.

“Hey!” Jim cried out, struggling to fasten his trousers and hop after him at the same time. “Wait a second, I—”

Jim couldn’t discern Silver’s expression when he turned his head. It seemed hopeful, angry, and disappointed all at once.

“Thank you. And… did you mean it? What you said?”

The stairs creaked, and Silver turned to face him. He kept his voice soft; anything louder and he would have been overcome with emotion.

“Every word.”

Jim’s pulse was racing again, and he broke into a wide grin. He ran up to the man and hugged him as tight as he could.

Silver reached to pick up his hat from one of the tables, and placed it squarely on Jim’s head.

“Get along with ye, now. I’m sure that doctor friend o’ yers is wondering where you’ve been hiding all this time.”

The cabin boy rolled his eyes, but smiled and raced up the stairs two at a time. At the top, he peered down, a flush coming into his face again. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and scratched the back of his leg with his foot.

“I needed that. And I wanted it. So thank you.” He peered around, and when he realized they were alone he continued. “And really. If you ever want me to return the favor, I wouldn’t say no. Ever.”

Silver followed him up the stairs, and nearly killed Jim with joy and fear as he kissed him on the deck in the daylight glow of the nearest star.

“Never mind about that, lad.”

He slung an arm over Jim’s shoulder, rustling the hat still on the boy’s head, and stared up into the expanse with him.

“I got what I wanted.”

 


End file.
